Having such a huge piece of news, and not telling anyone is kind of strange. The doctor won’t see me until I’m at least 8 weeks. We are thinking about telling people, starting with parents, of course, around Valentine’s Day. That will be about 8 weeks so I’m hoping for an appointment the Friday before.
Right now, the plan is to give the parents a little box, with cute scrapbook paper inside that says, “Expected to arrive…Sept. 25” or “ETA: Sept. 25” or something like that. In the meantime, I am doing my best not to slip and give anything away.
It’s starting to feel a little more real. I’m trying not to plan too much just yet, though. The biggest chance of miscarriage is 4-6 weeks. Thinking of all the possibilities is fun. Thinking about the weird pregnancy symptoms or labor and delivery is pretty freaky.
I was reading about how it all happens yesterday, and how the egg gets fertilized and starts to divide, and about the 3rd week, forms a ball of cells (called a blastocyst) resembling a tiny little raspberry. We are now past this point, but the little blessing has nonetheless been dubbed “our little raspberry.”
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